


you’re anything but common

by feellikehome (lifeisamusical)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Famous Harry, M/M, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, One Night Stands, its cute, just read it ok, lots of fluff no angst bc i’m tired of seeing them sad, they fall in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28357593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeisamusical/pseuds/feellikehome
Summary: Louis wakes up after a glorious night with far too many shots to see a marble ceiling and a ridiculously attractive man next to him. It’s awkward, and it’s cute, and they fall in love.
Relationships: Gigi Hadid/Zayn Malik, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Maya Henry/Liam Payne, Niall Horan/Zayn Malik
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	you’re anything but common

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to a strange fever dream i had where long hair harry reigned supreme in solo glory. this is an alternate universe i would love to live in.

Louis’ eyes flew open with a start, taking in a glimpse of the veined marble ceiling above him before he squeezed them shut again. He bit his lip as he tried to ground himself. The beginnings of what was sure to be a killer headache pressed stubbornly against his eyelids, making him huff out a soft groan. Damn Niall and his constant schemes to get Louis out at the clubs with him every weekend - it always seemed to takeover Louis’ entire weekend; one day to get roaringly drunk and one full day of recovery. Niall, the Irish bastard, remained entirely unaffected by the negative side effects of excessive alcohol consumption, while Louis almost always woke up like this; sweaty, nauseous, and with his brain pounding against his skull. 

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he gently prized his eyelids open again, furrowing his brow when he took in the veined marble ceiling again. Wait a second. Last he checked, him and Niall’s budget flat in Clapham did not have marble ceilings. Blinking his way into consciousness, he became suddenly aware of the feeling of silk sheets against his bare chest. Also not a feature at his normal place of residence. Louis clapped his hand over his eyes, suppressing another, much louder groan as he performed a quick assessment. He was definitely still wearing underwear, but he was also definitely not in his own house, which meant he had gone home with someone and... not had sex with them? That didn’t really sound like him, but the fact that he had been drunk enough to not remember what happened at all meant anything was possible. 

Lost in his thoughts, Louis barely heard the slight rustle next to him, but he did feel the puff of hot air on his neck and he let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing his hand back from his eyes. So. He wasn’t alone in this ridiculously fancy bed. There was a slight, almost adorable snuffle against his side, and Louis turned his head slowly, figuring it was probably time to face the music. 

Bleary eyes still sleep logged, he had to squint to peer at the sleeping form sprawled next to him. The man was objectively beautiful, even in sleep, which Louis had always thought was rather impressive. His chestnut curly hair was fanned away from him on the creamy silk pillows, tiny baby hairs clinging to his temples. His arms were bent awkwardly above his head, framing a delicate face that was currently turned towards Louis, full lips open slightly to softly breathe against Louis’ face. The sheets were pooled low around his hips, revealing an expanse of inky black tattoos stark against milky white skin. When Louis inhaled, he caught the faintest whiff of musky vanilla and despite his building hangover, the scent somehow calmed him a little. 

Louis felt his eyes widen as he took in the godlike creature lying next to him, wondering how on earth he’d managed to end up in his bed. Not that Louis didn’t consider himself attractive, but this guy was clearly attractive and rich, which was not easy pickings. His eyes settled on the slight furrow of the man’s brow in his sleep, a tiny flicker igniting in his chest when he thought about reaching out and smoothing it with his thumb. He shook himself, a little roughly. He really needed to stop staringat this man and try and figure out how he got here and who this person was. 

Despite his attempt to focus, Louis found his eyeline gravitating towards the distracting tattoos on the stranger’s chest, fixating on the intricate butterfly detailed in the centre of his ribs. This guy was seriously gorgeous. 

“Enjoying the view?” A deep, gravelly voice murmured close to Louis’ ear, and he let out a rather embarrassing squawk, clutching the silk sheets between his hands in a pitiful defence. 

Louis’ hand fluttered to his own chest, trying to calm himself down enough to glance casually back at the stranger, his cheeks flaming red. He had just been caught shamelessly admiring someone he couldn’t even remember while wrapped up in their luxurious bed, which he also didn’t remember. Great. Louis loved Sundays. 

“Er, hi.” Louis flicked his gaze up to lock with the stranger’s eyes and felt his breath stutter. Thoughts of the rest of the beautiful stranger faded away as he stared into the green depths of the man’s eyes, his eyebrows a high arc above them. He had never seen such a jewel like shade of pale emerald before, flecks of lighter moss green highlighting the amusement glittering in the stranger’s eyes. Oh, that’s right. He’d just been caught checking out this person he didn’t remember. Well, actually, one glimpse at these eyes seemed to be stirring up some vague memories for him - the club, Niall dancing with some blonde, and Louis... Louis was definitely staring into these eyes for a while. He couldn’t blame his drunk self; right now, Louis didn’t think he could tear his eyes away even if a gun was pointed to his head. 

As the silence stretched out between them, Louis’ thoughts a swirling mess, his heart rate starting to slow down, the stranger’s obvious amusement at his distress only seemed to deepen as he quirked a small smirk, highlighting a dimple in the corner of his grin. Louis had a sudden flashback to digging his finger into that very dimple and he felt his fingers twitch, bunched under the bedsheets, as if longing to do it again. 

The stranger just raised his eyebrows and stretched out like a cat, raising his whole torso off of the bed, his eyes never leaving Louis’ beetroot face. 

“I’m only teasing.” His smirk turned into a full blow grin, and Louis felt himself shiver. Whatever his mind had forgotten, his body clearly remembered, and he felt himself drawn to this magnetic stranger in a way he couldn’t describe. He blinked. He really needed to organise his thoughts. This was getting out of hand, and he needed to figure out where he was, get home, put whatever this was behind him, and resume his normal hangover routine of being horizontal on him and Niall’s old sofa all day. 

“This going to sound really bad, but-“ he started sheepishly, before getting cut off by the curly stranger. 

“You don’t remember what happened last night?” The stranger’s eyebrows were still high on his forehead, but there was only more laughter in his eyes. 

Louis winced “Er, yeah. Is it that obvious?” 

Curly stranger just laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest as his voice box protested, still shaking off sleep. “Well, lovely, you told me last night - just before you face planted right there and didn’t get up - that you probably wouldn’t remember a thing come morning, so I am hardly surprised by this turn of events.”

Louis flushed again and let out the loud groan he’d been holding in all morning. Well, there goes his plans of bullshitting his way through this mess. “Oh god, mate, I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember your name.”

Curly stranger smiled cheekily, but didn’t throw him a bone. “To be honest, I think you forgot it about two minutes after we met last night. You seemed quite content calling me ‘Curly’ the whole evening.” He winked, that infuriating smile still fixed firmly in place. 

At this point, Louis was fairly certain he must look like an overripe tomato, the heat in his cheeks becoming unbearable. It was one thing to stumble home blackout drunk with the lads and piss on your neighbour’s door, but it was another to wake up in the bed of possibly the most attractive man he’s ever seen, and not even remember how he got there. 

“Do you remember anything? At all?” Curly stranger prompted, eyes shifting from amusement to something more inquisitive. 

“Your eyes.” Louis blurted before he could stop himself. Damn. He really needed to filter what he was saying, but his alcohol addled brain was so not up for it right now. He was flustered, and Curly’s distracting face wasn’t helping. There probably wasn’t much point attempting to save face now, though. It seemed he’d done a fine job of making a mess of himself already. 

Curly barked out another laugh, the sound echoing around them, and Louis forced himself to take a quick peek at the ridiculously adorned room. The whole place was decked out in pale golds, creams, and blues, regal looking chairs tucked under claw footed tables. What sort of money was Curly packing? This was definitely not the sort of place he would normally find himself in. His glance around had shown no sign of his clothes, which made him grimace internally, but he shifted all worries of that from his mind to look back at Curly. Hm. He liked that nickname. Maybe drunk Louis had made some points. 

“Sorry, Curly, I’m gonna need some help here remembering details. Please do share, oh all knowing being.” 

Curly just rolled his eyes and inched a little closer. “I think I might keep the details to myself, thanks.” He winked again, the movement unhurried and a little too smug for Louis’ liking. 

Louis wanted to turn his face into the pillow and scream, whether from embarrassment or frustration he couldn’t tell, but he miraculously refrained, only raising an eyebrow in annoyance at the glee that Curly was getting out of this situation. 

“Will you please just give me a clue?” Louis pleaded, jutting out his bottom lip and doing his best puppydog eyes. 

Curly huffed, blowing a stray curl off his forehead and settled further into his pillows. “No, I think I won’t. It’s plain to see that our beautiful night together meant nothing to you at all.” His eyes glittered with mirth as he spoke, still enjoying himself at Louis’ expense. 

Louis narrowed his eyes. “It’s not my fault you’re not memorable, Curly.” 

“Oh trust me. I am.” Curly waggled his brows in a ridiculous dance and Louis cracked a chuckle, despite his annoyance at being made fun of. He found himself wanting to sink into the plush pillows, to lie here all day and tease this beautiful stranger into making him laugh. But that was a foolish thought, and if Louis had more energy, he’d kick himself for even thinking it. Whatever had happened here, it had clearly been too mortifying to even voice aloud, so the best thing to do would be to get himself out of this place and never look back. Even if he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over the pair of green eyes currently boring a hole into the side of his cheek. 

Curly found this all a lot funnier than he did, but Louis wasn’t sure if that was because he’d done something so embarrassing last night that Curly now had some sort of big secret over him, or if it was his behaviour right now that was the most embarrassing. Neither scenario was particularly good for him. He shifted a little, the silk sheets sliding against his skin and making him shiver. 

Glancing back at Curly, he remarked; “I do remember a few things, you know. Your dimples, and your eyes, us dancing. Probably making an absolute fool of myself.”

Curly gave him a calculating look, as if carefully considering what to say. “No, I think the making a fool of yourself part started once we got back here, actually.” 

Louis felt himself flood with alarm. There was a high chance that something extremely embarrassing had gone down here. “Suddenly, I find myself no longer curious about the past. Let’s focus on the present, eh?” He drawled wryly, his voice still raspy and laced with fatigue. 

“You do you, Lou.” Lou? So Curly not only knew his name, he was using nicknames, too? That was interesting. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

Louis’ brows knitted together as he considered this. “Well, you could always tell me -“

“Nope.” Curly popped the p and wagged his finger dramatically. Louis found himself staring at the stranger’s ridiculously large hands, and hoped he didn’t look as hypnotised as he felt by this man. “I quite like having this power over you, you know.”

“Okay fine.” Louis rolled his eyes and tried not to give in to the grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Although Curly was being a bit of brat, there was something endlessly endearing about the way he was just lying there, obviously enjoying teasing Louis. Or maybe Louis was just thinking with his dick and not his brain. Because the longer he lay here, the more he found himself drawn to Curly. Which is probably how he ended up in his bed in the first place. Running a hand through his hair to get himself back on track, he sighed. “So where am I then? Or will you not disclose that insider information either? Am I doomed to live out the rest of my days here as some sort of sex slave?”

Curly snorted. 

“You’re not giving me a lot of confidence here, Curly. I know this place is definitely some sort of murder den. I mean, claw footed tables, really?” 

Curly broke into peals of laughter at that, his hand slapping over his mouth to smother his chuckles. “Oh Lou, you think I live here? This is a hotel. Your powers of deduction are astonishing, mate.”

Louis lifted himself up on his elbows to look around the room again, and realized now that it was pretty obvious he was in a hotel room. A ridiculously fancy hotel room, at that. Also, the suitcase on the floor should have been a dead giveaway, but Louis won’t be too hard on himself for missing it on his first once over. The fact he can even sit up this much without upsetting his stomach is actually pretty good considering the state he was most likely in the night before. Flopping back onto the bed, he rubbed his eyes stubbornly, willing himself into clearheadedness. Curly stranger. In a hotel. Okay, Louis has so got this. 

“Why hotel?” Okay. Wow. Louis has so not got this. That wasn’t even a sentence. 

Curly seems to let Louis’ lack of grammar slide and just shrugs. “I’m only in London for a few days for work, and I couldn’t be bothered making the trek to my house in Hampstead Heath so I booked this place in central.”

“Dare I ask which hotel we are in?” Louis decided not to dwell on the fact that Curly had a whole house in London but chose to stay in a hotel. It was best not to think about it. It was also best not to think about where he might have come from if he’s only in London for a few days, yet has a house here. He must have some sort of important business-y job, where he jetsets constantly. Louis needed to snap out of this. If things went right, he would never have to deal with this man again. He profusely ignored the pang in his chest when he thought about leaving this comfortable bed and this beautiful stranger. 

“Cafe Royal.” Curly said, like it was nothing, while Louis’ jaw dropped. The Cafe Royal was one of the oldest, grandest hotels in London, right on Piccadilly Circus. With a jolt, he realized this would probably be the only time in his life he would ever wake up in a bed like this. This situation was only getting more and more confusing. He slapped his knees, and sat up suddenly, drawing the silk sheets with him, and ignoring his protesting head. 

“Well, Curly, I would say it’s been lovely, but I honestly don’t know if it was or not. I better get home and see if my imbecile of a flat mate made it back safely last night.” He glanced behind him to offer Curly a parting grin, only to be met with him sprawled against the bed still, stark naked. Louis squealed and looked away, throwing the sheets behind him to cover him up. Curly let out a high pitched giggle. 

“Don’t be shy now, Lou.” 

When Louis looked behind him again, Curly had tucked himself back in and was continuing to stare intensely at him, eyes flickering between amusement and something unrecognisable. Louis felt his jaw go slack. “Did we... er..?” He gestured between the two of them. 

Curly’s face remained impassive for a few heartstopping moments before he shook his head slowly. “Nope. I always sleep naked. All that went down last night was just some innocent heavy petting.” His gaze fell on Louis’ collarbones, eyes suddenly smouldering, and Louis looked down to see a smattering of dark bruises sucked into his chest. He exhaled in relief. It wasn’t that he wasn’t insanely attracted to this man, it was just that under the circumstances, just making out and passing out seemed a lot better for Louis than the alternative. 

“That’s good.” 

“Good?” Curly’s brow furrowed again and Louis twisted his fingers into the mattress to stop himself leaning over and smoothing them apart. Summoning his most flirtatious grin, he cocked his head to the side. 

“Good because if that had happened, I would definitely want to remember it.” With one last pointed look at Curly’s butterfly tattoo, he pushed himself off of the bed, wiggling his bum a bit as he did to give Curly a show. The hushed laughter behind him made him turn his head again, only to see Curly’s cheeks tinged a little pink, his eyes slightly glazed over. Huh. Maybe it was possible to rile him up, maybe he didn’t have the upper hand in this situation as much as he thought. Louis turned around and located the bathroom in the far corner of the enormous bedroom, almost crying in relief when he saw his skinny jeans and striped shirt dangling over the shower rail. Fishing out his phone, he typed a quick text to Niall to say he was on his way home and he had a story to tell, and he quickly got dressed. He almost didn’t want to look in the mirror, but he figured that as he was in central London, in a fancy hotel where he was bound to encounter people, he should at least try to look presentable. 

His reflection left much to be desired. Bloodshot eyes, wild hair, dark shadows under his eyes. Louis sighed, splashing some water on his face and doing his best to smooth his hair back into some semblance of control. Giving himself one last once over, he slipped back into the bedroom and awkwardly stood between the bed and the door. Curly seemed to have drifted back off to sleep, face pressed down into the side of the bed that Louis had just vacated. He looked so peaceful, and Louis almost didn’t want to go; he wanted to wrap himself around his sleeping form, run his fingers over his tattoos and breathe in his curls and - NO. Louis was not having these thoughts about a person he doesn’t know - no less a person he has embarrassed himself in front of, presumably beyond redemption by the way this morning’s conversation had gone down. With one last, lingering glance at the beautiful man, Louis stepped towards the door that he presumed was the exit, hand on the door handle. 

“Wait. Lou.” Louis whirled around to see Curly blinking at him, wide green eyes watching him. “It’s raining outside.” 

Louis squinted. “How do you know?” 

Curly shrugged with a one sided smile. “I can just tell.” 

Louis scoffed and crossed his arms. “You can just, tell?” He raised an eyebrow sassily. 

“Yes, I can. My hair gets curlier when it’s raining.” Curly gestured to his ringlets with a waving hand. 

Louis rolled his eyes. There was no way that could possibly be true. Still, he felt he needed to be proved right, so he crossed the room and pulled open the heavy curtains to look down on Piccadilly Circus. Telltale grey skies loomed above him, as sheets of rain plummeted down on miserable looking pedestrians. Shit. Louis really didn’t like being wrong. 

“Do you believe me now?” Harry’s voice was taunting and when Louis turned to face him, he had pulled himself upright in bed, his face stretched into a shiteating grin.

Louis cocked his hip. “Don’t flatter yourself, Extra-Curly. Getting something right once does not a genius make.” 

Curly just carried on grinning, and soon Louis felt a smile tugging on his lips as well. Shit, this boy was good at making him smile. 

“Well, anyway. It’s raining in London, such a rare event, however will I cope?” Louis deadpanned, crossing the room again to the door. 

“You’ll freeze!” Curly gaped, astonished, gesturing at Louis’ thin shirt and jeans ensemble. 

Louis frowned. He probably would be pretty cold by the time he got home, soaked through and teeth chattering. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t walked home from the tube station in the rain before, and he would definitely live. Curly continued looking at him in concern, and Louis didn’t like the fluttery feeling it gave him in his stomach. He shook himself. “I’ll live.” He shrugged, but Curly shook his head adamantly. 

“Grab a sweater from my suitcase. I cant have you telling people I sent you out in the cold to catch your death.” 

Louis laughed. “What is this, the 1920s? I think your honour is out the window considering you brought some babbling drunkard back to your fancy hotel room.” Despite his teasing, he walked over to the suitcase anyway, not one to turn down the offer of a more warm and comfortable journey home. 

“You do babble a lot when you’re drunk.” Curly mused, and Louis picked up a cushion off of one of the chairs and threw it behind him as he strode towards the suitcase, listening to the satisfying thwack as it collided with Curly’s body. He hoped it hit him right in his smirking mouth. “Ouch! If only you’d been this feisty last night, maybe we would have had more fun.” 

Louis sent a withering glance behind him as he sifted through the suitcase, smirking in satisfaction when he noticed Curly cradling his jaw with one hand. “Um, are you sure I can take one of these?” He scratched his jaw as he peered into the case; a sea of designer clothes haphazardly thrown in there jumping out to meet him. 

Curly shifted on the bed a bit and when Louis glanced at him he just waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, take whatever you want.” 

Louis scratched his forehead as he tried to figure out which sweater was worth the least, figuring the green Marc Jacobs one on the top of the case would probably not be the best one to steal. Curly seemed to not even think about money, what with staying in a hotel in a city he owned a house in, but Louis found himself not wanting to take advantage of his kindness anyway. He eventually settled on a pale blue crew neck that he found near the bottom of the suitcase, shrugging it on before turning around to find Curly’s eyes still on him, just watching quietly. 

“Do you have any other mystical powers, Curly? Wanna tell me how packed the Northern Line is right now?” 

Curly giggled again, the high pitched noise so different from his throaty laugh from earlier in the morning, and Louis felt a goofy smile threatening to break on his face, stifling it just in time. “Not that I know of, but only time will tell.” He said, very seriously. 

“Of course, well.” Louis drummed his fingertips against his jean clad knees, revelling in the intoxicating scent of some expensive cologne that he smelt wafting from the pale blue jumper. “I suppose I’d better go, then.” Just as he spoke, a rumble of thunder roared around them, the rain suddenly bucketing down outside. Yikes. Louis didn’t think his stolen jumper was going to do much to keep the rain out now. 

Curly seemed to be thinking the same thing, his eyes narrowing. “I can’t let you go home in this weather.” He shook his head, scooting along the bed to retrieve his phone from the bedside table. 

Louis scoffed. “So you’re just going to keep me here? This is all feeling a bit ‘Baby it’s Cold Outside’.” 

Curly shot him a playful glare. “Stop making me out to be a psycho. You’re the one that wormed your way in here and refused to leave.” 

Louis gulped. He definitely thinks he’s better off not knowing what happened last night. “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who lured a drunken stranger into this golden murder den.”

Curly just shook his head, curls bobbing around his face as he hunched over his phone. “Don’t worry, Lou. I’m just asking my driver to come and pick you up. Then you won’t get wet on your way home.” 

Louis took an few quick steps towards the bed. “Whoa, no. Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m not like you. I’m a commoner. We are used to walking in the rain.”

Curly gave him a questioning look. “Why are you making me out to be some sort of royal or something?” There was something sharp lurking beyond the question in his eyes, the look of something deeper than the lighthearted banter they’d been throwing back and forth all morning, but Louis’ tired brain couldn’t quite read it. He just shrugged. 

“I mean, look at this place! Look at you! With your sparkling Disney prince eyes and mermaid hair.” Louis clapped his hand over his mouth, feeling his eyes go wide. He had definitely not meant to say that. 

Curly’s eyes cleared and he smiled genuinely at Louis now. “Awww stop it Lou! You’ll make me blush.” He stretched backwards on the bed, arms folded above his head. “And I’ve already texted Alberto so you’ll have to accept a ride from him now, or you’ll be wasting his time.”

Louis was reeling from all the events of the morning, his head and stomach churning rapidly. The last place he expected to wake up today was the grandest hotel in the city, with a naked and beautiful stranger snuggled up to him. Yet here he was. Numbly, he nodded and twirled to face the door again, startling when he felt warm fingers close around his wrist. Curly gave his hand a small tug, Louis’ knees knocking into the bed as his body obliged to the gentle pull. 

Curly didn’t seem to be worried about time, his inquisitive green eyes roaming over Louis’ face as he studied him for what felt like ages, lingering on his lips and cheekbones for a few seconds at a time. “That colour is gorgeous on you, you know. Good choice. Your eyes are like, electric.” Curly’s cheeks were a little pink again. His thumb brushed the back of Louis’ hand and Louis licked his dry lips, trying to ignore the electric tingle the touch elicited in him. 

“Thanks, you know, for not being a murderer and everything else. I’ll see you round, I guess.” Louis scrunched up his face around the lie, knowing he would never see this beautiful man again, ignoring how it made his insides run cold. He really needed to pull himself together. This was surely just a side effect of his hangover, not a few quippy sentences exchanged with a gorgeous stranger having this sort of hold over him. 

Curly smiled. “I’ll see you, Lou. And you’re welcome. Thanks for not snoring too loudly.” Louis gave him a flat look. “Look for the black Mercedes out front, you won’t miss it.” He let go of Louis’ wrist, and Louis found himself missing the touch, but shrugged it off and made his way towards the door quickly. 

“Oh, and Lou?” 

Louis inwardly sent a curse to whatever god might be listening and turned impatiently, but his annoyance was squashed when he saw the softness in Curly’s gaze as he looked him over once more. 

“You’re anything but common.” It was a cheesy thing to say, but Curly delivered it so sincerely, his mouth set in a straight line, brow furrowed again. Louis’ traitor heart gave a stutter as he ducked his head, lips stretching into a lopsided smile. 

“Thanks again, your Curly highness. Bye.” And before he could lose his resolve, he yanked the handle and shot down the hallway, not looking behind him once. And if he snuggled into the soft blue jumper, breathing the slightest hint of musky vanilla as soon as he got into the lift, well, that was just because he was a little cold, that’s all. 

.........................

Alberto turned out to be a pleasant guy only a few years older than Louis, who seemed entirely unruffled by his apparent walk of shame attire. He asked Louis for his address and held the door open for him, letting him slide into the comfortable car and droop against the seats without comment. 

The ride was so comfortable that Louis had to fight to stay awake. He could really get used to this private car escort thing. But who was he kidding? This was a one off, a bizarre and exciting experience he would tell all his mates about and then never think about again. The time he blacked out, woke up in a rich man’s hotel room, and got bundled into a private car and escorted home. He even had the sweatshirt to prove it. 

Even though he had resolved to put this entire night behind him, Louis couldn’t help his curiosity surrounding Curly. There was something so intriguing about this man; sprawled open on his fancy hotel bed, teasing but guarded, complimenting and protecting the drunken stray who’d tagged along to his room. If he was being honest, he knew that he was deeply attracted to Curly, but it didn’t do to dwell on that, seeing as he’d missed his only chance to act on that attraction by being an intoxicated idiot. 

“Alberto?” Louis questioned, as they pulled up to his and Niall’s flat, twenty minutes faster than he would have arrived if he’d taken the train. 

“Yes?” Alberto met his eyes in the rear view mirror. 

“Who do you work for?” It was a long shot, but Louis figured it was worth a try. 

Alberto just chuckled, shaking his head. “He told me not to tell you.”

Louis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What else did he tell you?” 

“Only good things.” Alberto smirked. “I think he likes that you don’t know his name, you know. It’s a good thing.” 

Okay, so. Mysterious. Louis just sighed, opening the door to drag himself out of the car.He ignored the little flutter in his stomach at the implication that Curly might want to see him again, because there was no way that was going to happen. 

“Thanks for the ride, Alberto. I wish you’d given me the scoop on your mysterious master, but we can’t always get what we want. Tell Curly that being rich and mysterious isn’t actually that hot.” There, that would show him. 

Alberto just laughed and shook his head again. “Ah, I see why he likes you.” He paused as Louis shuffled out of the car and into the miserable drizzle. “Nice jumper by the way.” When Louis swivelled to look at him, he found him staring back at him, dropping a wink as he turned back to the wheel. Hm. Weird. Louis wasn’t sure what to make of that comment. He closed the door to the Mercedes and stood back as it took off towards central London, sighing and rubbing his face as he trudged towards his front door. Well, that was that chapter of his life over and done with. As Louis unlocked the door and stepped into safety from the rain, he couldn’t help but close his eyes, two deep pools of green staring back at him from behind his closed lids. Maybe forgetting Curly would be harder than he thought. 


End file.
